Page 28 of The Virgin and the Viscount

She sucked in a breath, and instantly her demeanor shifted. She turned her gaze to his, fire sparkling in the green depths. “That is a scandalous thing to say.”

“I thought you knew by now I’m a scandalous man, and I very much want to do scandalous things to you.”

There was that shallow breathing again, and her eyes had gone dark and heated. She might not like him, but she definitely desired him. It was a start, one he intended to fully use to his advantage. He might not deserve her, but she was his, and he was going to make this a real marriage.

Tilly stood at the edge of the ballroom with her friends surrounding her. She stared out at the dance floor where her sister was currently in Sullivan’s arms.

“He didn’t have a choice,” Harriet said.

“He’s too much of a gentleman to have said no to her when she asked the way she did,” Agnes said in agreement.

They were right, of course. Melanie had seized an opportunity to claim a dance with Tilly’s husband in front of the Duchess of Kilby. Sullivan would never have accused a woman of lying in such a situation. But she had been. He’d been at Tilly’s side since they entered the ballroom so she knew there’d been no previously agreed upon waltz.

“They make a striking couple.” Her sister was beautiful, no matter how much Tilly wished otherwise. Melanie was still so pretty. Petite and perfectly curved with golden hair and shining blue eyes; she was the very picture of conventional beauty.

“You look far better at his side, and he looks at you with so much fondness,” Agnes said.

She wanted to argue the point with her friend, but there was no use. Tilly knew the truth. He might say he wanted to do wicked things to her, but he hadn’t even so much as kissed her yet.

No, when he said things such as that, it was merely to get a rise out of her. To make her blush so everyone watching them would see her reaction to his whispered words and assume they were besotted. He’d admitted as much when they’d danced at the previous ball, after Lady Evanberry had confronted them.

Perhaps she should be grateful he was trying to protect their ruse, but she couldn’t, not when his words affected her so profoundly. Not when he couldn’t be bothered to consummate their marriage.

“It’s obnoxious what she’s wearing,” Harriet said. “I know that’s a nasty thing to say and I know she’s your sister, Tilly, but that red gown is inappropriate.”

“I agree. You don’t try to draw attention to yourself when attending a wedding ball. Especially your sister’s,” Agnes said.

“I love you both, but I’m quite accustomed to Melanie’s behavior. The truth is, she could wear a flour sack and still look prettier than me. The daring gown is unnecessary.”

She was saved from having to listen to the protestations of her friends by the arrival of Lord Davenport, Harriet’s husband.

“You look beautiful tonight, Matilda,” Lord Davenport said as he bent over Tilly’s hand.

“Thank you.”

Harriet smiled up at her husband. “She certainly does. Where have you been?”

“Causing trouble, my love, as usual.” He looked down at his wife with such adoration it was nearly painful to watch.

Tilly knew it wasn’t anything she’d ever have—she’d always known that—still, she couldn’t prevent the longing in her heart. She swallowed hard against the knot in her throat, trying desperately to ignore the heat swamping her face. How much longer would this night last? She wanted nothing more than to escape to her room and get lost in a book.

Thomas appeared at her side. “Might I escort you to the refreshment table?”

She didn’t particularly want to go, but it gave her an excuse to walk away from her friends and their devoted husbands. Jealousy wasn’t a good look on anyone. “That would be lovely,” she said.

He took her hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow, then led her around the dance floor. He chatted about the musicians and other random topics, but Tilly wasn’t paying much attention to his words.

He served her lemonade and she dutifully thanked him. He was dreadfully dull, but she felt pity for him that he had to endure life with Melanie, though he had picked her.

“Do you ever wonder what our life would have been like?” he asked.

She nearly choked on her drink. “I beg your pardon?”

“If you recall I began courting you before I turned my attention to your sister.”

“I find it best to not think on what could have been.” What else was she to say?

He exhaled loudly, his frustration obvious. “Dance with me?”

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